Ginn Hale - Lord of the White Hell book Two

"Kiram is speaking for himself. I smell like a bed of roses." Javier followed Kiram's quick retreat.

"You'd better tell me the whole story, Kiri!" Dauhd shouted.

"Later!" Kiram assured her then he ushered Javier into the cool interior of the house and led him to the men's bath.

The bath bore all the hallmarks of one of Kiram's father's indulgences. The natural luster of the oak walls stood unadorned and the tub was little more than a trench of marble sunk deep in the floor. But the plumbing was displayed like a masterpiece. Brass plated pipes snaked along the walls and coiled down into a red boiler. Etched valves, engraved levers and ornate faucets glowed as shafts of afternoon light angled in through slit windows high in the walls.

Javier flopped down on one of the two wooden benches. He studied the boiler as he worked off his boots.

"I didn't get a chance to ask last night but is that some kind of steam engine?" Javier asked at last.

"No," Kiram laughed. "It's just a boiler. On winter mornings we use it to heat bath water." Kiram patted the mechanism. "This pipe on the left draws water straight from the civic pipes, which are usually pretty cold. The pipe on the right curls around the boiler so that by the time the water gets to the faucet it's hot."

Kiram twisted one of the levers and water gushed out into the deep sunken tub.

"Unfortunately for us no one stoked the boiler so we're going to have to live with tepid water for our bath."

"The horror." Javier smirked. He carefully set Majdi's coat aside and then stripped off his shirt and trousers.

Kiram forgot what he'd been about to say and simply took in Javier's naked body. The sharp definitions of Javier's body hair, the clefts and planes of his muscles were familiar but still breathtaking. Kiram had stroked and kissed every inch of him: thick thighs, jutting hips, broad chest, strong arms, even that ugly brand on his shoulder.

The glint of the cheap piglet charm lying against Javier's chest seemed distinctly out of place.

"What happened to Calixto's medallion?" Kiram asked.

"It burned and broke into pieces when Alizadeh released Yassin's ghost."

Kiram frowned at the sunburned expanses of Javier's shoulders, cheeks and arms. In all the time Kiram had known him, Javier had never gotten the slightest burn or even the hint of a tan, not even after days of riding in open fields. Now a few hours in a garden had left him pink.

Normally the white hell shielded him and absorbed any injury, but now without Calixto's medallion he couldn't easily open the white well. If something as innocuous as sunlight could harm him now, what would happen when the holy father administered Javier's customary dose of muerate poison?

"Alizadeh told me what this piglet symbolizes." Javier tapped the tin charm. "It's a Mirogoth charm for the best luck in bad times."

Kiram scowled. Luck wouldn't keep muerate poison from bleeding Javier to death.

Javier stepped close to Kiram and slid his hand over his chest. "Are you going to undress or is that something you'd like me to do for you?"

"I think I can manage for myself." Kiram gazed into Javier's dark eyes and took in the playful smile on his lips. He looked so happy. Kiram released his anxiety, not wanting to ruin Javier's mood. Kiram shed his clothes and the two of them slipped down into the full tub. The water was only a little cooler than the air but Javier shuddered as it washed over his sunburned skin.

"Does it hurt?" Kiram asked.

"Not much." Javier sagged against the side of the tub. Kiram leaned next to him, relaxing. Absently he pushed a lock of wet, black hair back from Javier's face.

"It's getting long," Kiram commented. It felt like silk between his fingers, far finer than Haldiim curls.

"Shorter than Atreau's," Javier replied. He glanced to Kiram. "Don't you like it?"

"It suits you, but shouldn't you look as little like a Bahiim as you can? Especially now."

"Probably," Javier agreed but there was something in his expression that told Kiram that he wouldn't cut his hair. He wore a similar expression when he flirted with men at the Sagrada Academy, as if he harbored some secret desire to be exposed.

"Do you want us to be found out?" Kiram asked softly.

"No." Javier laughed at the question. But then he met Kiram's gaze and his sure smile faltered.

"Sometimes. I get so frustrated with hiding and lying that I want someone to call me out as a bender. I want to face a living man who I can fight and destroy and have done with all of this." Javier's gaze was distant, his expression angry. He dunked his head under the water and swept his hair back from his face. "You can't understand it, can you?"

"I think I can a little," Kiram answered. "At first I was worried that you were like the Cadeleonian man Rafie was involved with. He obviously felt so guilty about being an adari that he sought out punishment and confessed to a holy father. But that's not how you are."

"I certainly don't harbor any fantasies about the pleasure of punishment for one thing. I've done so much penance that some mornings I've seriously considered burning the whole damn chapel down." Javier's jaw clenched but then he looked to Kiram and forced a hard smile. "I suppose I'm more disillusioned with Cadeleonian society than the jackass who betrayed your uncle. I would never betray you like that, Kiram."

"No, but you do want someone to catch you." Kiram spoke carefully, watching Javier's face. "You want the men you fight to know that you're an adari when you defeat them."

"It's a fantasy I've entertained, yes," Javier admitted with a shrug. "But I would never actually endanger either of us like that. It's not as though secrecy is new to me. I've been. I've been a bender all my life and I've learned to accept that it's enough to know that I'm better than the men who would disdain me. Though it doesn't hurt to have won the title of Grand Champion from them."

Kiram couldn't keep from smiling at that.

"You're not a bender, anyway," Kiram teased him. "At least as far as I know, you've never-"

"I would be whether I did or not," Javier replied seriously. "I know what I am, though I do like the word adari better. It has a beautiful sound to it."

Kiram nodded. He found the soap-Majdi's, he thought, from the strong cedar scent-and worked it into a fragrant lather. He soaped Javier's chest with care for his tender skin.

"Have you always known?" Kiram asked.

"Probably," Javier replied. He leaned closer to Kiram. "Certainly by the time my father handed Calixto's diary over to me I understood what I read and why it moved me."

Kiram allowed Javier to take a turn at washing him. His touch was gentle but assured and made Kiram think of the way Javier brushed Lunaluz down. And Kiram smiled because only with a Cadeleonian could that have been a good comparison.

"What did you read in Calixto's diary?"

"Sex mostly," Javier admitted. "Calixto filled a number of pages with the details of his encounters with men. Yassin particularly."

Kiram gaped at Javier. "All those nights you were looking so serious and pouring over that diary you were just reading pornography?"

"For the most part, yes." Javier laughed. "It was research. I had to find a way to seduce you, didn't I?"

Kiram briefly ducked beneath the water, rinsing the soap from his body and hair. He wiped water droplets from his face.

"You could have just asked me to seduce you," Kiram suggested.

"I did try on the first day we met."

"By handing me a scrub brush?"

"Yes, well." Embarrassment and chagrin played in Javier's expression. "You can see why I needed to read over the diary more closely, can't you?"

Kiram laughed. In truth Javier had captured him before they had exchanged a single word, before Kiram had even known his name. The first time he'd seen Javier riding across the open fields, seeming to soar over stone walls, the freedom and beauty of him had riveted Kiram.